Scelus
by iVisionS
Summary: He wanted to play a game. His enemy wanted what was taken away from him. She was what they both needed. It was a hunt, twisted, insane with lives on display. They could win it all or loose everything. They were willing to take their chances. One cannot see the truth before, facing the lie and one cannot realize what is precious before loosing it. Hannibal/OC
1. Chapter 1

_** 1**_: _ Alea iacta est_

"_Humans have a knack for choosing precisely the things that are worse for them."_

London, UK

Disgusting. Revolting. Her every fiber raged against this degrading parody of work lunch. Everything from the dim muggy excuse of a restaurant, to the non-existent table manners of the man sitting on the opposite side, made her crave to possess a gun. She felt as if she was observing a wild beast devouring its latest pray. The fork of the man butchered the pork stew as if to make sure it was dead enough to eat. _Primitive_, she thought. As repulsing as it was, Natalie Bishop had to endure this…_meeting_, no matter what. Patiently she waited for the man to finish his greasy meal, silently hoping that he would choke. To her misfortune, however, the man spoke up while still chewing a piece of the stew. Natalie could see the pulping meat roll in his mouth, bathing with saliva, before taking its destined path down his digestive tract. _Fascinating _perhaps he indeed was a homo erectus that had traveled from the past. That would explain his behavior. . .

"So, what do you think?" asked the man impatiently.

Natalie stared at him, unsure how to respond, as she was too busy trying to compose her unreadable mask and had not heard a word he said and therefore couldn't form an answer or give an opinion. Instead, she forced a polite smile, her eyes remaining passive and excused his earlier unimportant blabber to ask a question of her own.

"Have you decided if you'd accept the offer, Mr. Parker?" her pale golden irises captivated his, which Mr. Parker found entirely unsettling. Fidgeting nervously he put down the fork, wiped the remains of food from his mouth and without breaking eye contact nodded at Natalie.

"I … I would like to help." Cold sweat ran down his spine as he received a coy smile from the woman across him. He had made the right choice, hadn't he? If, yes, why was he having the odd feeling that perhaps he had just dug out his own grave? The woman, who was calmly sitting on the creaking table with him, presented the word mystery. Despite that this is the third time they meet; he still had no idea of what hid behind her entrancing eyes. His train of doubting thoughts, however, was broken as his gaze was once again focused on the now standing figure of the young woman.

"Well then, Mr. Parker, I would inform my superiors of your decision and contact you in the next few days, if that is alright with you?"Her voice, although composed, carried a sharp edge that made him want to crawl in his seat and become invincible. Her gaze shifted from him to her mobile phone and the message that had just popped out on the screen. Her eyebrows creased together thoughtfully… she had to cut this meeting short.

"It would seem that I have an unexpected business that needs my urgent attention, so I would have to bid you goodbye, Mr. Parker. In the mean time, you will be sent a later with instructions and description of what your job will be. I expect you to read everything carefully and remember once you're in…you can't back down…oh and one last thing the lunch is covered by us, so you can order whatever else you want . . . " With that, Natalie excused herself and calmly walked out of the restaurant leaving Johan Parker to his jumbled thoughts.

The fresh air outside the crowded restaurant filled Natalie's lungs and she smiled broadly, happy to be free of the smell and off-putting presence of Johan. She couldn't begin to comprehend why had she agreed in attending this lunch meeting, weren't there people with far less on their hands, that could arrange these sort of things? Her phone rang, halting her mental rant and Natalie picked up, without even sparing a second to see who was ringing.

"Hello?" spoke the golden eyed woman heading for her motorbike.

"Natalie Bishop?" the voice was unfamiliar and the slight tension that it carried made Natalie stop in her tracks.

"Yes, it's me…If I may ask with who I'm speaking?"said Natalie suspiciously, while looking around as if she would spot the person who was calling her.

"I am Dr. Alana Bloom."

Natalie's blood froze, her heart pounded like a running horse…cold beads of sweat formed on her temples. She knew this person or moreover, she knew who the doctor worked for. A person she had vowed to never willingly encounter again. Natalie's mind blanked out all coherent thought and before she could come back to her sense she had hung the phone.

* * *

New York, U S A

"… found her." Announced Alana Bloom handing the phone to Jack Crawford. The feminine doctor eyed him coolly and sat on the small velour-ish sofa, crossing her legs in sign of displeasure.

The FBI agent – Jack Crawford, was sitting behind his desk, a grim expression plastered on his features. They had found her and as glad as he was, he couldn't deny that trouble was ahead and the mental durability of those involved would be severely tested. His dark eyes moved to the female doctor sitting near him, her eyes blazing and demanding. The agent could feel her questions, objections and discontent towards the current situation, rushing to her fevered mind.

"I know what you're going to say, Bloom, but there is no other choice…"snapped Crawford, irked by her accusatory demeanor. "If… she refuses to comply, we'll use other methods to bring her here and that's final! Call the center, inform them of our plan and contact Will…"

"Are you insane, Jack?! Natalie will.. –"

"I said its final, Bloom…don't make me remove you from the case. _The dice has been cast_, Alana... are you with me or not?" Jack's tightened fist slammed hard atop the polished mahogany table, the sound echoing between the tall walls of the office. He didn't have time to waste on petulant behaviour of trusted comrades, nor spare sanity to lose, therefore if his agents weren't ready to obey and do their jobs, he would have no other choice, but to suspend them. Lord help him, but agent Crawford was facing one of his greatest nightmares and he was sure, deep in his consciousness that this was neither the beginning, nor the calm before the storm…he was already deep in the silt.

Jack stared at Alana expectantly, though he was sure what will be her answer and this was why a malicious smile pulled the corner of his mouth when she spoke with admirable determination.

"I am with you till the end…"

* * *

**A/N: **Hello to those who spared a couple of minutes to read the begging of the first chapter of my story "Scelus"  
There are a few things I would like to state. English is my second language, so please excuse any mistakes, I am trying to post a flawless story as possible, though if there is a beta reader that would like to help me with this task, then by all means they can PM me.  
Another thing, there will be a lot of Latin phrases as titles of the new chapters. The translation will be given somewhere among - the speech of a character or at the end of the chapter.  
Last, but not least...yes this is a Hannibal/OC fanfic if you don't like stories that involve romance between the psychiatrist and someone else's made up character, please do not post rude comments, flames etc, you can just kindly skip.

Well, thank you for reading, this first chapter, which is more like setting the pieces on the board. Stay tuned for more. Reviews would be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

2: Aegri somnia vana

Paris, FRANCE

The eerie melody of the pianoforte was tingling his senses like the gentle caress of a wonton lover. His every molecule submitted to the power of the entrancing piece. _Perfection. _Without any doubt…sheer beauty. His eyelids slowly closed, hiding the dark chocolaty orbs of the psychiatric doctor. They say that a _blind man _beholds the power to _see_ the music in its purest light. How very true, indeed it was. He could imagine the fingers of the pianist running softly over the keys, kissing them ever so elegantly, manipulating them skillfully and slowly guiding them to an overwhelming climax. He was creating such a refined music, so pristine and alluring at the same time. He was, but a mere imperfect slave that answered to its elusive call. A content smile hid in the corner of his lips. The virginal nature of the music, contrasted greatly with his consciousness and in some awry way was, yet an ideal illustration of his complex character.

"Dr. Lecter…sir?" a meek whisper disturbed the sanctuary of his momentary heaven. Hannibal inwardly growled as he slowly almost reluctantly turned to his left. A shaky, sweating man in his late fifties was nervously staring at him. The psychiatrist's scrutinizing eyes scowled the unwanted interloper, but years of practice urged him to verbally acknowledge his seeker.

"Yes, how may I help you?" The cold politeness didn't go unnoticed by the unfamiliar person and this seemed to further add to his painfully evident discomfort. Refraining from wasting time on analyzing the behavior of this _colorless _individual, Hannibal stared encouragingly at his companion expecting a response. To his confusion, the older man only constrained pointed to a young boy near the exit of the Philharmonic hall. Before, the doctor could say anything, the strangely tremulous man was already moving away from him. Utterly at a loss, but most definitely intrigued, Hannibal discreetly headed towards the youngster who seemed to be waiting for him. The rest of the audience, oblivious to the abrupt shift in the air, continued to be mesmerized by the angelic melody, like moths attracted to the light, they were deaf and blind to the rest of the world. How convenient…_too_ convenient.

Just as Hannibal was about to address the lad, the boy turned on his heels and rushed through the door, his raven locks swirling wildly as he did so. The doctor's anticipation and suspicion grew and he hurriedly followed his infant guide. Outside in the spacious foyer there were a few Frenchman clad in spiffy, black tuxedos quietly chatting to themselves. Their conversation, however, came to a stop when they spotted the lean figure of Hannibal. A foreboding silence hung between them, thick with tension. Doctor Lecter spotted the dark haired of the boy, who was at the very same moment hiding behind one of the unknown gentleman. The expressions on their faces, presented an undeniable definition of the term _unreadable_.

"Tell me doctor, what's the price of _a sick man's delusive dreams?__" _The weary voice came behind him, but Hannibal didn't need to turn and see who the man that spoke this familiar sentence was. A dangerous smile crept to the doctor's face. Dark shadows, hiding even darker secrets obscured Hannibal's features. His eyes twinkling hauntingly pierced the reflection in the near mirror of the man standing mere meter behind him.

* * *

London, UK

Doctor Natalie Bishop was buzzing busily in "St. Justin Law" morgue, attending to her latest guest. Matt Gibson; age 45, previously a lawyer and currently _comfortably_ situated on her slab table. Earlier this morning, his malformed corpse was found in court hall number 3 _carefully_ positioned in the chair of Judge Zweig. Natalie couldn't think of a best way to mock, one of the most hated judges in London and she found it peculiarly amusing. The killer _obviously_ was a person who was not afraid of being caught; it appears as if all he cared about was carrying out his vendetta in a memorable way. Because, indeed this was a revenge assassination, one that conveyed a _certain_ type of _message_ not intended for the police, but for the judicial institution…

What is even more interesting is the _picturesque_ state of the body. The victim had second degree burns type B on multiple places of his body. The ones on his torso and lower abdomen had completely destroyed the epidermis and upper part of the dermis which in addition affected the blood vessels and neurons, causing numerous hemorrhages. Similar wounds were visible on the arms and legs, leading to the conclusion that the late lawyer was cold-heartedly tortured, by a person with sadistic tendencies. Moreover, after the _exhaustive_ analyses of the blood, it became clear that the Mr. Gibson's death was induced by poisoning with _Datura Stramonium_ or widely known as Jimsonweed. This specific plant is a powerful hallucinogen used by old tribes for spiritual purposes because of the visions it causes. However, the conclusions from the toxicity test confirmed that the victim was repeatedly subjected to a high intake of the poisonous essence that not only made Matt Gibson go mad from horrid hallucination, but also die in painful agony.

All of this naturally led Natalie to think, that the killer was someone who had mild medical knowledge and vast experience with chemicals..

"That has to be of some help…" droningly murmured the young pathologist, covering the corpse with a white sheet. She had spent the better part of the afternoon and evening _dotting_ over her _patient_ and finally surrendered to her lassitude.

"Alas…what do my eyes see? Natalie Bishop, bored of a corpse?" mused a smooth all too familiar feminine voice from beside her.

Natalie sharply turned to her left, to find Alana Bloom curiously peering over her shoulder at the covered dead man. Surprised and aggravated by the sudden invasion of her personal space, Natalie took a couple of steps backwards, tripping over her feet, but managing to recover her balance, by leaning on the slab. Her golden eyes shined with accusation and resentment. Alana on the other hand, didn't seem to be at all affected by the open dislike towards her person and was warmly smiling at the ashy blond haired woman. Surprisingly doctor Bloom was still unfazed, even after she was coldly addressed by Natalie.

"What are you doing here?" the hostility dripped from every verb and signaled that the pathologist was not at all happy of this _meeting._

"I am happy to see you too…" blandly replied Alana, her eyes playfully challenging Natalie, provoking her to play by the rules of good manners. This seemed to further anger the other woman as her fists clenched in attempt to get her emotions under control.

"Welcome…" was the best Natalie could wrench through her gritted teeth before impatiently continuing with a forceful demand in the voice "Now will you answer the question?"

Taking a daring step forward, a knowing and rather to cryptic smile, Alana approached Natalie. The dark haired woman took out an envelope from her pocket and extended her arm towards her old acquaintance answering with a reserved dread:

"Oh..I believe you know very well, why I am here.."

* * *

**A/N: **Here is the second chapter! I am thrilled from the positive respond my story received and most humbly thank all of the reviews, followers and anonymous readers – Merci beaucoup! I honestly didn't expect such a flattering surprise until later in the chapters, oh thank you again.

Now, I know that there will be perhaps questions after you read this chapter, because of the introduction of new characters and plot settling, however, fear not this common trend will only last for the next 2 maximum 3 chapters, after this the chapters will be a lot larger and clearer.

'Till next time!


	3. Chapter 3

_All heroic deeds require a cost; otherwise they are not really heroic. _

She stared down the forlorn corridor, dreading the walk to _that_ office all the way at the other end. The brick walls give off a chilling air unlike any other absence of heat that she've ever felt; a cold that feels almost as if death herself, that mistress of wilted decrepitude and hollowed eye sockets, is running icy fingers over her skin, making it crawl and prickle at the touch that makes one's lips turn blue with a bloated rigormortis.

Her hands grip and tug at the ends of her white cotton blouse. Her eyes are focused and distant, vacant with miniature sparkles of panic as she tries to escape the curios trespassing gazes of the passing faces. She feels as if she's breathing water, drowning in the cold sweat of anticipation. And regardless of how hard she tries to block out the memories of _that day_, they still emerge on the surface of her troubled mind, like cold hands folding around her entire being, playfully mocking her sanity.

_Breathe, Breathe…_

Natalie's breathing begins to descend to normal and for a second she thinks, she might get a moment's of peace, she closes her eyes and that's when she falls into the trap. Memories more vivid than any dream of imagination claw at her as she sees _Her_ face, see _Her _staring and reaching out with a crumbling hand, decaying into chalky ash.

The young pathologist's breath hitch in her throat as she desperately tries to suppress the bubbling scream threatening to spill from her cracked lips. She feels Death, like a shadow behind her laughing softly, lovingly in her ear…beckoning her to turn around.

Blinking furiously a few times to clear the fog clenching maddeningly like chains around her, she wonders if in those moments, when the line between reality and illusion start to merge is when she could catch glimpse of her own unsheathed of any façade face.

Catching herself before she went to deeply in thought, before she lost it in the corridor of FBI headquarters, Natalie shook her head and hesitantly began walking towards the office of agent Jack Crawford. With each stride, she could feel herself detaching from the darkness, her steps gained strength and the vibe of confidence and cold authority wrapped around her like veal, hiding and locking away the secrets of the English woman.

Pausing to observe her reflection in the glassy door of the office, Natalie was taken aback to find harsh, frozen eyes staring back at her. So void of emotions her golden eyes looked like lifeless sun. _He_ would notice that. Huffing in barely held irritation, the pathologist pushed the door and stepped carefully in the room.

A dangerously biting smile tugged at her rosy lips as cold met warm. Their eyes locked tightly, intensely as Natalie approached the mahogany desk.

"Hello, Jack."Her greeting was curt and edgy as she slowly sat on one of the chairs in front of the agent. Legs crossed, gaze unwavering she marveled the shock on his face carved in every wrinkle. He was stressed, tired and desperate. The dark circles below his warm dark eyes gave away his desperation. _Interesting._

"Welcome back, Natalie" smirked the agent, tugging away his shock and the current emotions and problems chewing at his mind. "How was your, flight?"

The female doctor sneered frostily as she shuddered. She hated planes. Hate, or perhaps maniacal paranoia, she would never admit to the later. She preferred the solid ground to the _visionary_ –for some, experience in traveling by plane, for very good reason, that she would prefer to not think about now.

"It was _wonderful" _Forcefully replied Natalie her eyes throwing fulminant daggers at jack's, presently mischievous person. The acid tune in her voice was amusing to the older man and he laughed gently, remembering the girl's fear of heights and planes. His carefree attitude, however, changed when the pathologist spoke up.

"I know why I am here, Jack. Regardless of how you ask me or who you send to talk me into doing _this. _My answer will still remain negative. I paid my cost, I did this once, I am not doing it again! I can't, you know why and you know the risks, so please Jack, tell me why can't you let me live my life like a normal person…you _own_ me that!? You _know_ you _do_!" Her eyes war franticly searching his, for once she let her emotions show, to let him see and make him understand. The severe ruinous desperation in her haggard stare suffocated Jack, hitting him like a bullet, making him remember…But he couldn't let her guilt trap him into backing away. His dark brown eyes, turned black as his gaze hardened upon her.

"You tell me, to let one person, one human being _live, _when others _die? _To _allow _you to walk away? When _you _can save all those people? Normal? You stopped being normal long ago Natalie and you know far better than me that you can never be normal again."

His words stung. Stung and burned with truth and brutal reality. They made her crave riot, to scream and punch to rip at his flesh and destroy him. But she knew. She knew that he was not the enemy. He was merely doing his job. And Jack Crawford had every right to speak those words. However, one thing he had not right to do and she would pay him that.

Her body trembled. Her hands shook as she folded them in front of her chest. Pearl white teeth bit down viciously as she let his words sink deeply like a ragged knife through her. She savored the feeling, bathing in it absorbing the full weight of the decision she was about to make. And she knew. She knew that there would never be going back. That she was selling her soul to the devil and she would get nothing in return…

Because Jack Crawford knew how to trigger her, which buttons to push and he knew that too well for his own good. Natalie was not one to sit by and watch as the world fell down and do nothing when it was in her power to help. It was her redemption. To help. It didn't make her feel good in the end of the day, if she saved someone. It was just means to gain forgiveness, to find answers, to solve the riddle. Helping was her drug, her bridge to sanity, her life jacket. Helping was what made her human, her closest thing to normal. And one always craves this, which they don't have.

Jack observed as his words hugged Natalie and dipped her head in thought. He knew it was cruel…his actions. Had he another choice, way to do this without breaking an already broken creature, Lord …he would do it. But life was a game, where sacrifices had to be made. People who had to give everything until there was nothing left to give. To lose everything, till there was nothing left to lose. Natalie was that person. He believed it, he knew it and he tended to use all that there was to use. He would take everything from her, every each and bit. He would shatter her to ashes. And he would be damned to hell for it. It fell strange to voluntarily run to abyss and he felt his heart heavy with guilt, because he would not be running alone…

"You will regret this, Jack…are you aware of that?" Her question rang like bells in the dim office as Natalie relaxed in the chair, her head dizzy from all thoughts swimming and fighting for attention.

"I am." Answered the agent resting his forehead on the palms of his big hands.

"Then we can start." Murmured the pathologist closing her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! Hellooo! I know this update is a bit late-ish, but I am preparing for exams( I'm supposed to be studying now...) But this chapter wasn't giving me rest till I wrote it down, so here it is! I can finally take a deep breath and go back slaving to MS-Dos (Help!)  
Anyway, my chapters are still quite short, but as I said previously they are about to get really lengthy. To those who just can't wait for Hannibal to appear, fear not it will be soon. I like to take my time and set atmosphere characters, before starting to play with them. I promise it is all for the best!  
Well I hope you will like this chapter, it may be a bit angsty to some of you, but I do my best to keep everything as real as possible.  
Reviews are greatly appreciated!  
Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

****This chapter is dedicated to Sam0728 and all of my readers.

* * *

**4: **_Spritus Rapto_

Natalie Bishop felt cold beads of sweat run down her spine, petrified by the robotic calmness of the young police officer. Not that she had anything against his serene peacefulness; it had something more to do with the whole atmosphere crawling in the psychiatric prison. Or perhaps it was the claustrophobic feeling working skillfully like a maestro pianist upon her wrecked nerves, making her feel restless. However, the intense curiosity shimmering brightly in her cold eyes gave away her actual excitement to be here, slowly making her way to _him_.

When the elevator came to a stop, the young pathologist felt her every sense receptor going on maximum workload and she convulsively gripped harder at the handle of the sports bag. The police officer swung open the heavy door and with his usual apathy he waited for Natalie to exit the small cabin. The light in the corridor on this floor was scarce and the smell of disinfectant that hung in the stuffy air was harsher than in the other parts of the prison. The doctor however didn't even flinch at the intrusive aroma, of the chemicals, which was abusing her nostrils. She however, was not completely unfazed, knowing exactly what type of criminals were withheld in this part of the building and nervously walked behind her _guide, _feeling as if she was stepping on eggshells. The young man turned behind the left corner and steadily began walking towards the far end of the hallway where the only thing emitting light was the flickering plate of prison cell four-zero-four. Abruptly the poker of her memory stirred the ashes of recollection and forgotten amber of a past she hoped would never have to face again. However, plans tended to go wrong sometimes and this is why she was currently steadily approaching the _home _of the man responsible and yet innocent for all the things that poisoned her mental health.

Her thoughts came to a halt as she and her escort stopped before the slightly rusty, bust still quite solid and dependent bars of the first gate keeping the cell occupant securely locked. The policeman extracted a hoop with keys and proceeded with his task to open the door. The hinges screeched hysterically, voicing their need to be lubricated. Natalie frowned as she stepped back, allowing more space for the police officer to open the second door, a dozen of questions stormed in her mind as she watched him sliding in the key. The rusty hinges implied that this door was not regularly open at its fullest.

A click.

A breath.

The second door opened reluctantly allowing bright light to illuminate the pathologist's face, so blank that she could pass as a latex figure, shaped under the fingers of professional sculptors.

"I will wait outside." Curtly said the policeman, before swiftly closing the door behind Natalie.

The young woman immediately turned her attention to the dangling leg of the prisoner, who was humming a soft tune, while relaxing on the top of the bunk bed. Her heart gave a painful pang as she tried to collect herself.

"I knew you'd come back to me…"purred the man a sickening cackle ripping from his throat as he nestled more comfortable on the bed, the springs creaking agonizingly.

Natalie remained silent, observant, cautiously taking in her surroundings. The cell was spotless clean. Apart from the bed it consisted of only one more object – a toilet in the far corner. No windows, nothing.

"Tell me, Nattie, did you.._**uh**_.. miss me…?" his voice was sly, mocking and carried a sense of dominance. The young woman shivered ever so slightly, gulping a bit before narrowing her eyes at the top bunk. She couldn't see his face, but she knew him well enough to know that his characteristic shameless smirk would be gracing his features. Upon imagining this, she felt anger bubble in her and with a newly found resolve and strength, forced a response.

"Would you please, come down, Jack? Don't you think it's rude not to face your guest when you speak?" her voice, though even, carried an anxious edge that didn't go unnoticed by the man. He giggled cattily. He was enjoying this. However, a certain emotion crawling in his laugh, gave the pathologist just what she needed to play her cards right.

"So _eager_ to see me, are you no_**t**_, doll face…"his words, wrapped with excitement, held a clear warning. The man did not tolerate to be ordered, pushed around and he enjoyed being a step ahead of everyone else which signaled his control antics. "But you see..." murmured the man pushing his upper body onto his elbows, just enough so he could lock his penetrating gaze with the woman trespassing on his territory "I much like i_**t**_ up here…standing _above _you."

Natalie's liquid gold eyes widened. Her mouth suddenly dry made her feel like something was rotting in the pit of her stomach. Her pulse irregular and fast, thundered in her ears efficiently deafening her. Cold sweat like thousand slugs was sliding down her neck and spine, making the hair on the back of her head rise. She felt like a trapped animal, he still possessed control over her and he was well aware of that. To her horror the mischievous, dirty gleam in his eyes told her that he intended to use it on full force against her. Whatever self resolution she had made earlier was ripped clean from her. Taking a step back, Natalie swallowed the lump in her throat, not daring to look away from his cold gray eyes.

Much like a cobra hypnotizing its pray, the influential man shifted slowly from the cot. His bare feet swung over the edge as he jumped and lightly landed on the stony floor. The sound of rattling chain broke Natalie of her frozen state and she noticed that the cuffs around his wrists were connected to a chain securely locked around one of the bunk's legs. Despite her fear and anxiety she couldn't bite down the words dancing at the tip of her tongue and they sprung out like runway rebels.

"Yes … strangely, though, you're the criminally insane psychopath in chains locked in a prison with life sentence…" His eyes flashed dangerously, daring Natalie to continue her verbal comeback, while taking small, careful steps towards her. Smiling acidly she continued, her blazing eyes challenging him to come closer, tempting him with the visible scare swimming those bright orbs of hers. "…whereas I am _out_ and _free_…"

The man's face twisted in a furious frown as he lunged at her, only to be stopped a mere inch away, viciously pulled back by the merciless chain. The muscles in his arms tensed as he fought against his restraints. He did not appreciate his current _state_ being flaunted in his face and humiliation reeked from his body like the stench of a decomposing corpse. Naturally being a narcissist sometimes made a person avoidant of the reality, if the truth _high – lightened_ actions, moments, etcetera which opposed as failure on their side. In conclusion, Natalie had an idea of the enraged turmoil tormenting his mind at this very moment and how this left him slightly more unguarded. Perhaps, this was the moment she should finally bring up the reason for her _visitation_. Casting a side-glance at the sports bag still securely squeezed in her hand, Natalie adopted an icy smile.

"Regardless of our positions on the…_chess board_, I suppose you wonder why I am here?" the words were pronounced with sophisticated exclamation, inclining that she was well aware that at the current moment this was the last thing to be swimming in his frenzied mind.

Lifting her eyes to bore into his, the man sneered venomously, but silently waited for Natalie to indulge him into the purpose of this rendezvous. However to his surprise, before the young woman spoke, her skeletal arm swayed before his vision, handing him the sports bag with a calculating light in her gaze.

"I want you to tell me everything you know on the _topic_ that you will find inside." Said Natalie, loud and clear her voice stable with the barest hint of dread.

Snatching the bag from her, the prisoner studied the pathologist's posture with unmasked suspicion, barking a spiteful question.

"What's in it for me?"

Natalie allowed herself to smirk and turned around for the door, stopping just before it and with poisonous smugness answered.

"Only the salvation from the maddening boredom eating at the remains of your sanity, Jack the Ripper."

* * *

**A/N:**

_Hello, my lovelies! Yes, I am alive and I have not abandoned my stories! It's been 3 months? I deeply apologies for my sudden absence! However as I finished high school, a lot of things needed to be done in order for me to continue to my higher education. Apart from that I had a summer job, which ate the majority from my free time and by the time I had a day off I had neither the desire nor the muse to write. Since everything seems to finally calm down I am once again able to continue with my stories._

_Now regarding this chapter as I need to clear something, before I further confuse you. The character introduced in this chapter Jack the Ripper is in fact the notoriously famous person that we know from the legend. I have chosen to place him in modern time from my point of view. He has an important role to play and many secrets to unravel. Next chapter will explain a lot of things. With this been said I hope you've enjoyed this chapter ._  
_ Till next time!_


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